


i'll wait (and he waited)

by LilyintheSkywithDiamonds



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Development, F/M, Or At Least I Tried, hints of ned&betty, i'm french btw, mj&peter break up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 09:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyintheSkywithDiamonds/pseuds/LilyintheSkywithDiamonds
Summary: She couldn't deal with it anymore - it was too much.So she ends it, everything, even though both of them are still in love, even though she's certain he's the love of her life.He promises he'll wait for her; she promises to find him again sometime when everything isn't too much.She doesn't know if it's luck or fate, but she finds him again; she doesn't know if he chose to or not, but he waited.





	i'll wait (and he waited)

**Author's Note:**

> oh well hello there !  
> i'm french so if you see any mistake, typo, whatsoever, please tell me.  
> hope you'll like the story !

Michelle was laying in her bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, counting the cracks.

Peter was patrolling the streets and she knew she wouldn't be able to close her eyes or get any minute of sleep until she got his 'home&safe' text.

Her phone buzzed two little vibrations on the wooden nightstand.

It was too early to be Peter, but she still grabbed her phone urgently. The bright light of her screen blinded her for a second.

_Leeds_   
_11.07PM_   
_Did he text you?_

_MJ_   
_11.07PM_   
_not yet._   
_did may get any updates?_

_Leeds_   
_11.08PM_   
_Not yet._

She sighed.

See, despite her cold appearance and guarded heart, MJ was a romantic. She strongly believed that you only love -truly love- once. And she might be young, they might have only been dating for a short three months, but she has already totally fallen in love with Peter. Deep down, she knows he's 'the one' her mother told her about.

So she doesn't mind that every night she goes to bed late because she's waiting for his text.

She doesn't mind being worried sick over him, she doesn't mind stitching him up after bad fights -not that it happens often.

But maybe she does a little. Sometimes when she goes to class with just two hours of sleep, or when she cries because she's angry at everyone in this gigantic town for being such shitheads that they need someone like Spider-Man.

But it happens rarely, so it's okay.

She waits, and waits, checks her phone every so often, and suddenly it's four in the morning and her lock screen showcases a picture of Peter and her in Europe; there are no notifications other than Instagram - someone liked the new sketch she posted on her art account.

She bit her lip.

She had to wake up at six in the morning, a mere two hours from now, and began her day with an algebra test. Sure, she had studied, but exhaustion wouldn't help her have a good enough grade.

She hoped for a moment that her phone had a problem, that Peter was actually home and safe and that she just didn't receive the text. It happened sometimes, right? Technology isn't perfect.

A tear slipped out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. It hurt like hell, not to know how he was doing. She needed to fall for a goddamn superhero, did she? She needed to fall for the guy who would always put himself in danger, she needed to fall for the guy for whom she would always be worried. 

No, not worried. Worried wasn't a big enough word.

She couldn't even fathom to understand why he would always, always choose the danger. Helping people and saving lives, she got - but his complete lack of survival instinct, she couldn't comprehend.

Her silent tears were disturbed by a weak knock on the window. Maybe she had imagined it, maybe not; she checked. Outside was Peter, his Spider-Man mask ripped in half. The faint light of the street lamp shed light over the bruise that was starting to form on his brow bone.

Her tears had dried on her cheeks; her eyes were red and swollen, but she didn't give a care about her state.

She tried to open the window as quietly as she could - her dad was a very light sleeper ever since the accident. Putting her finger against her mouth, indicating to Peter that he had to stay quiet, she used her second hand to find the switch and turn the light on.

They both sat on the edge of her bed, she rummaging into her nightstand to find her first aid kit and he looking at her.

She was so beautiful, he thought. He could see the traces of tears on her cheeks, he wasn't totally oblivious, and he knew she was broken inside; but the fact that she could still love him despite everything she had been through made him love her even more.

She had never told him about her mother, but he knew that she wasn't done healing from whatever had happened.

She stitched him up without saying a word.

His brow bone, his upper lip. He took off the rest of his suit; the open wound on his torso, his wrist, his knee.

It was worse than what she had ever seen.

Worst than Europe, worst than Liz's dad - not that she had seen that, but he told her about it.

With his thumb, he brushed her cheek and lips.

They locked eyes; hazel meets brown, just like that time at the opera when everything changed between them.

He grabbed her hand, squeezed it tight.

"There was a robbery", he said. That was the first words he said to her that night. "And a girl walked in on the guys robbing her house. So she screamed, and I heard and I went to help her."

He breathed through his nose before continuing.

"They were ready to kill her. And the girl... The girl looked a lot like you."

She squeezed his hand back.

"Made me freeze, that she looked like you. My mind went blank and the guys took advantage of that. Beat me up like I was nothing."

Something broke inside of her. Why in hell would he put himself in danger like that? Sure, he loved her and she knew it; she also knew that it wasn't her fault he froze. But somewhere, deep down, something broke because she felt like it was her fault.

Because of the life that he lived, she couldn't become a liability for him. She couldn't risk his life just by existing.

Looking back on it, years later, she thinks that maybe it was just an excuse. Maybe she just wasn't ready yet, and maybe she was being self-centred, but at the exact moment she decides to break up with him, she tells herself it's because their relationship puts him in even greater danger.

There's another tear that rolls down her cheek. He wipes it off; she opens her mouth, ready to end everything.

"I think we should stop."

He stays silent. He knows her; she isn't done talking and if he interrupts her now, she won't finish. He knows she needs to finish.

"I'm a liability to you. Our relationship is a liability. Maybe one day, in five years or ten or fifteen I'll be right for you and you'll be right for me. But not now. Now, our minds are too hectic and our hearts are too young and too bruised to love the right way. Now is not the right time."

He doesn't ask when will be the right time, doesn't say a word. It soothes her down and infuriates her in equal ways: he understands her maybe a bit too well, and she's about to ruin this.

In lieu of talking, he kisses her cheek gently. It's just a brush of his lips against her cheek, to be honest, but it's loving and sweet and just... Peter. Maybe it's a little bit awkward but then again: everything about this kiss is perfectly Peter.

"I'm breaking up with you, Peter" she whispers, her voice trembling because of the strangled cries.

"I know", he answers. "But it's okay. I'll wait for you."

She kisses him; doesn't really know why, but she does it. She finds the kiss to be even more awkward than their first; probably because it might be their last.

Also because she can taste her tears - it's salty and wet on her lips. She knows he can taste them too. The kiss is sloppy but sweet and neither really care about the tears or her dad sleeping in the room next to them. The only thing they care about is the other. They are everything that matters.

The kiss turns into sex. It's not their first time; but once again, it might be their last. It isn't wild or passionate or fast; it's slow, full of never-ending love, _sweet and gentle._

That's what she'll remember most about their breakup. It was sweet and gentle. 


End file.
